


In the Arms of an Angel

by gabrielwinchhester (safeandsound67)



Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Demon Deals, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mutual Pining, Valentine's gift for a friend, this is sad i'm sorry, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 17:00:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6059052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/safeandsound67/pseuds/gabrielwinchhester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 9 AU. Dean can't see Castiel without his wings any longer- it's tearing him apart. So he decides to take matters into his own hands. </p><p>Or: the story of what Dean Winchester did to save one of the people he couldn't see in pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Arms of an Angel

Dean squared his jaw. "I'll do it," he whispered, his voice barely penetrating the oppressive heat of the night air. The demon raised an eyebrow slowly and his mouth turned up at the side.

”I'm sorry, Winchester, I didn't hear you." The demon's voice is not loud, yet as it slithers over his skin, it made Dean shiver all the same. 

Dean wasn't crying, dammit. He was not.

Images- _blueeyesblackhairtantrenchcoatbluetie_ \- flashed through his mind. They calm him down. He took a deep breath and straightened his spine. He'd be back. He'd see those cerulean eyes again. He'd feel them pierce through his skin and look straight into him, into his soul.

Dean shook his head and cleared his throat. He looked at the demon in the eye with a stare that would quell armies and make a lesser being cringe. The demon, however, only gave a soft chuckle. 

The demon nodded appreciatively with a sparkle in his eye. "Good. Shall we seal the deal?" 

Dean closed his eyes just as the demon's cold lips hit his own. A hot tear rolls down his cheek. The deal gave Castiel his wings back, and took Dean soul away in only two months. Two months. He gets two measly months to spend time with his angel before he's sent to hell to burn for all eternity. All because he fell in love with an angel he couldn't bear to see in the slightest bit of pain. 

_It's worth it_ , thought the doomed righteous man. _It's all for him, and it's worth it._

Castiel woke up the next morning feeling _different_ \- not bad different, but rather like he used to. He scratched his back in confusion. The spot between his shoulder blades was tingling as it had for all the time he'd spent as a human, but this morning that spot was not only tingling. From that spot sprouted his wings. The wings he'd had ever since he'd been a fledgling- sharp edged, with feathers the colour of the night sky. His once-weary face broke into a wide smile- the widest it had been in months.

His _wings_ were back. He was an angel again. Cautiously, he stretched them out to half their actual span. Yes. He wasn't dreaming. They were back. _He_ was back. Happiness and relief threatened to flood him before he was hit with the biggest question- how? How was it, that after all this time, all the time he'd spent as a human, he was suddenly an angel again? How was it, that his Grace had returned overnight? Surely it wasn't possible. 

His metaphorical heart sank as the realisation dawned on him. He threw the sheets of his bed off with a ferocity seldom shown by the mild-mannered soldier of heaven. He marched towards the kitchen, the door banging loudly behind him. 

_Damned Winchesters_ , he thought. _Always making deals with demons. Do they not understand how important their souls are- how important they are?_

He entered the kitchen with uncontrolled force, his eyes blazing with fury. 

_I will not let them sell their souls for me. I'm not worth it. I never was, especially not after what I did._

~

Sam looked up from his breakfast in shock. A leaf of lettuce that was on a fork halfway to his mouth hung in the air, forgotten. 

"Geez, Cas. Are you hungry or something? You're usually never up at this ti-" unfortunately, Sam didn't get to finish. He was too busy being pushed up against a wall by a furious angel. 

"Which one of you did it?" growled Castiel. "Which one of you _idiots_ did it? Have you two no regard for the value of human life? None?”

Castiel let Sam go and started pacing back and forth in the kitchen, his anger growing. 

"During my time as a human I realised how precious human life is. And here you two are, _throwing_ it away! Was it you, Sam?" 

Castiel stopped in his tracks and glared daggers into Sam, who really was not awake enough to deal with the Spanish Inquisition that had burst through the door in the form of a pissed-off Castiel. 

"What on earth are you talking about, Cas? Are you alright?" Sam's voice was laced with concern for his friend. 

Castiel studied Sam. It wasn't him. It was Dean. When was it not Dean?

"Dean..." All the air flew out of Castiel, and he sat down heavily onto Sam's abandoned chair. _It can't be. No. He can't be taken away from me, not again. No._

Sam approached the angel with extreme caution, wary of Castiel exploding again as he had before. Before he could speak, however, the door swung open once more, and in walked Dean, arms full of takeaway boxes and Baby's keys in his mouth.

"Morning," he said around the keys. 

Castiel straightened and he was by Dean's side in a split second. 

"Did you sell your soul?" Castiel asked the question bluntly, as if asking about the weather outside. 

"What?" Dean said, his heart dropping in his chest. Castiel had figured it out. _Time to what I do best_ , he thought. _Lie my way out of it._ "I didn't sell anything Cas, what are you talking about?"

He and Castiel stayed that way for a while, Castiel' icy blue eyes burning into Dean's forest green ones. Dean didn't say a word, but studied Castiel' eyes instead.

They were blue, he decided yet again, but unlike any blue he'd ever seen before. They were deeper than the blue of the ocean. Dean had never seen the ocean before, but he guessed Castiel' eyes were the colour of it. In between the darker blue came the part that intrigued Dean the most- the flecks of colour. Turquoise and a light blue the colour of the sky on the sunniest day the world had ever seen.

They were beautiful. And they would be what Dean remembered in hell, what he remembered while he was being tortured day and night. 

Castiel shook his head slightly before stepping away. Away from Dean, even as his mind screamed at him to step closer, closer to the man who had signed his own death warrant for _him._

"Never mind," whispered Castiel, his tone low and calm. He looked away to Sam, who was still standing in the kitchen before saying, "It seems my powers have been... restored. I must go. I have work to do, but I will be back."

In a flurry of feathers, he leaves. As he flies, the angel of the lord, one who was never supposed to feel any emotion, cries. He cries openly and lands on a park bench and cries for Dean, for what he had done. He cries because he cannot save him, he cannot save his righteous man, the man he had irrevocably falling in love with. The man was one whose very existence was planned, but Castiel had never planned on falling in love with him. And now, he was about to lose him. 

~

Dean spent those precious two months he had left simply watching Castiel. Whenever he was around, his eyes never left Castiel. He memorised his every move, his every expression. He memorised the slight smile he gave in place of a laugh, the curve of his lips and the crinkle near his eyes that formed when he smiled. He would remember these things. These things would keep him alive in hell, alive so that he could one day come back to the very same things.

He would get out. He would. He had to. He wouldn't be able to survive without telling Castiel that he was in love with him, that his very presence made his heart sing. The secret was weighing his entire being down, but he kept it. He needed to tell him before his time was over, but he never could. He tried, time and time again, but the words never came out right. So he refrained, and was content with watching him. 

Castiel knew, of course, that Dean had sold his soul for him. He also knew that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. There was no demon he could summon, no spell he could perform that would give him his Dean back. So he watched Dean, too. He memorised every movement Dean made. He learnt every note of Dean's laughs. He mapped out his face and committed it to memory. He was not worried about never seeing him again.

He would get him back, that much was certain. He would once again lay siege to Hell, and bring his righteous man back. So he waited, and watched him. Watched the man he had come to love more fiercely than Existence itself. 

The day came. February 14th, 2014. Valentine's Day. Two months exactly from the day Dean had made the deal, selling his soul over to the denizens of Hell for all eternity. There was no large farewell, no massive good bye dinner from the little family Dean had left.

Sam hugged him tight, tears streaming down his face. He would see his brother again, that much was certain. There was no way in heaven, hell or earth that Castiel would let Dean suffer down in hell. Castiel merely smiled the same way he had when he had first seen Dean, and snapped his fingers, taking both him and Dean away. Sam smiled up at the sky and wiped away his tears. He would see them again, he was sure of it. 

Castiel took them back to the place where they had first met- the abandoned warehouse. That was where they had first seen each other, and the place where they would see each other last. Castiel snapped his fingers once more, causing his hair to return to the wild mess it had been when they had first laid eyes on each other and a bunch of roses to materialise in his hand. He offered it to Dean, his eyes sparkling with tears and barely concealed sadness. 

"Will you be my Valentine, Dean?" Asked Castiel, angel of the lord with a tremor in his voice and a tear in both eyes.

Dean was crying, too. There were only minutes left, now. Minutes left until he was gone. He nodded his head.

"Yeah. Yeah, Cas. I’ll be your Valentine,” is all he gets out before he hears the howls of the hellhounds. Castiel smiles at him wanly and before he knows it, he’s kissing Castiel. He’s kissing his angel. 

He feels something brush against his back, and he pulls away. Castiel’ _wings_. The angel’s wings are wide open, protecting them. No- protecting _him._ He can no longer hear the howls of the hellhounds. He’s safe.

Dean grins and kisses his angel again, savouring the taste and feel of his lips as if it would be the last time he’d do so. Because it might as well be.

But for now, he’s safe. He’s secure, in the arms of his angel. Come what may, he’ll find his way back. Back, to his angel’s blue eyes and messy black hair that stands up in a million directions at once. Back, to his wan smiles and grudging laughs. One day, he’ll be back. Back in the arms of his angel.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! Thanks for reading. Leave kudos, comments, bookmark this, whatever! It's all appreciated. You can find me posting and flailing around on Tumblr as gabrielwinchhester, so come say hi ^-^


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